


Bat Caves and Lantern Lights

by Queerbutstillhere



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Universe - Supernatural/Mythological, Gen, Incubus Dick Grayson, M/M, Mythological Elements, Siren Cassandra Cain, Supernatural Creatures AU, Supernatural Elements, Vampire Bruce Wayne, Vampire Damian Wayne, Vampire Jason Todd, Witch Tim Drake, batfam centric, endgame batlantern, mythological creatures AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25717012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerbutstillhere/pseuds/Queerbutstillhere
Summary: For over twenty years, Bruce Wayne had gotten away with leading a double life. Or rather, a triple life. He got away with hiding that he was Batman, and he got away with hiding that he was a vampire.Hal Jordan is an agent with a department that specializes in working with Mythological and Supernatural creatures.They meet when the truth about Bruce is revealed to the public.Bruce has to make hard choices with the goal of protecting his family, Hal Jordan is just trying to do his job, and Bruce's kids seem determined to get them to keep meeting.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Hal Jordan - endgame, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Wally West - referenced
Comments: 34
Kudos: 255





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note this is going to be a whole lot of Batfam for the first few chapters!!!
> 
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brand new fic! A relatively new pairing!? What is this!? Who am I??
> 
> So this fic has been a project in the works for a few months now! I hope you guys like it, and I hope it makes sense as we go!
> 
> I'm quite fond of the story idea, and love the idea of the batfam all being supernatural/mythological creatures!
> 
> Read and Enjoy, i hope!

It was going to happen eventually. Bruce had known that. But after nearly 20 years, could you really blame him for getting a little lax? He knew it would be the aging that got him. Eventually he would be old enough that people would start realizing that no amount of skincare and facial products would keep a man from aging at all. Which was what was happening. He hadn’t aged a day past 25. He had been bit at 21, just a few months after getting thrown out of Princeton, but it had taken four years for the immortality to take place. He wasn’t that upset about it, it had picked a good year to stop aging him. He was in peak physical condition at twenty-five, good physical appearance, fairly handsome, and on top of that, he didn’t gain scars anymore. 

But now, at 40, people had finally found out. 

And no, it wasn’t because someone went “hey, forty year old Bruce still looks twenty-five”. No. It was because of a dumb twitter meme.

He had been photographed at dinner with a date, drinking wine as he sat under a sun umbrella, squinting heavily due to his lack of sunglasses and the bright sun that for once decided to make an appearance in Gotham. - Do you know how light sensitive blue eyes are? No? Because I do. Blue eyes fucking suck, they’re so annoying, you can’t go outside on a sunny day without sunglasses because you’ll go blind, god forbid you go outside  _ during the winter on a sunny day _ . - Twitter had jumped on it, making his angry squint at his wine glass into a meme, then a twitter tag called “#IsBruceWayneaVampire” because the original meme was “Is Bruce Wayne a snobby wine drinker or is he just very critical of his blood types?”. 

Admittedly this was not the first time someone had joked about the Wayne family being vampires. Bruce had always taken great care to use tanning lotion to mask his pale as the dead skin, but his children had not been as careful. Jason, while tan before turning, had only gotten paler every year since, and Tim, who wasn’t even a vampire, was so pasty white that everyone just joked he was. But in the past, it had been merely jokes and comments about their appearances and lifestyles that the whole internet laughed about for a few days and then moved on from. But this. . . this had been going on for nearly a week now, and today things had gotten so much worse.

When he saw the first Gotham Gazette article about it, he had been minorly concerned. He had known about the twitter thing, Dick had called his attention to it, laughing his ass off from all the way in Central City. Bruce had been minorly annoyed but not upset, and even played into it, retweeting the meme Tim had made and making his own little joke, but that had been that and he expected it to fade. Only it didn’t. It got big enough that the Gazette wrote an article on it, and the morning news cast had a segment about it. Two weeks in, SNL had already mentioned it in a bit, and several late night talk hosts had tried to get statements from him about it.

By the third week, it was still a big thing, and Bruce was starting to worry. Not obviously, not enough that any of the kids had started realizing it was an actual issue and they should stop encouraging it. 

By the fourth week, Bruce was watching his world shatter around him.

What had happened was some anonymous source had found and leaked shipment orders of A+, B-, AB, and other assorted types of blood bags to Wayne Manor. First of all, the discovery of this information was undoubtedly illegal, and Bruce had immediately contacted his lawyers who had gone hard after the Gotham Gazette to find out their source, but with no luck so far. It was a mess. How would he get himself out of this? He couldn’t. He had to expose one of two secrets. And since they were easily connectable if he chose the wrong one, he had to be careful.

He could confess to being a vampire, which would cause such a public uproar. He was going on twenty years, and while it wasn’t a law that you inform the government of vampirism, he had technically committed a very illegal act when he had turned Jason, since the boy hadn’t been fully coherent at the time, and hadn’t exactly consented to the bite. Not that many, if any, people knew about that little tid-bit of information, but if anyone found out, Bruce would be in massive trouble. On top of that, Vampire’s were feared enough that people would panic. They would be outraged Bruce hadn’t made that public knowledge long ago, they would fear him like he was some feral animal with rabies or something. They wouldn’t trust that he was a mature adult who could control his bloodlust. 

Sure enough, he barely made it a week before people had fully decided he was a vampire, and were demanding he admit the truth. He hadn’t left his house in a week at this point, and friends were starting to notice, Clark had called him nearly three times a day, and Diana had even shown up at his house. The boys couldn’t go to school, because on the Monday when they had tried, Damian had gotten attacked (another situation their lawyers were fighting over), and the poor boy had barely managed to stop himself from going into a rage. Damian’s rages were messy and bloody and just a pain in the ass to fix. Not that he wouldn’t, he would dig his son out of any and every hole he could ever make for himself, but it was still better to avoid them. 

The problem was the delicate handling of his  _ other  _ secret. His second option, and the one that was out of the question. He had, for nearly as long as he had been a vampire, had been operating as a masked vigilante known as the Batman. - I’m sure you know who Batman is, after all, everyone in the world does, the caped crusader who rules his city through fear and justice. The man who levels parts of Gotham nearly weekly during his fight with the Metahumans that seek to cause chaos. Who hasn’t at least heard of Batman? - The problem with this, was two things. A search of medical records would reveal that none of his family was A+, B-, or AB blood type, so he couldn’t pass that off as his excuse, that the blood was medical related. And Batman  _ was  _ a known vampire. So it was absolutely pointless to reveal his true secret in the attempt to protect himself. Bruce Wayne and Batman could both be vampires, with very little suspicion.

“What are you thinking, Master Bruce?”

Bruce was pulled out of his musings, looking up from the dark wood dining table up to Alfred, who was sat next to him, sipping his tea as Bruce poked at his meager breakfast.

“I was thinking how it is insane that a simple picture can completely ruin someone’s life.”

Alfred hummed sympathetically, glancing away, across the house and frowning slightly, then looking back to Bruce, waiting a moment before speaking.

“Have you made your decision then?”

“I need to talk to the kids, but I don’t see how I have any other option at this point. The longer I let it go, the worse it will get.”

“Call them down here then.”

Bruce grabbed his phone and sent each kid a text. Twenty minutes later, they were all gathered at the table, looking solemn. They had all been fairly quiet these past few days, Damian’s cheek was still bruised and it sent a hot bolt of rage through Bruce every time he saw it.

“I-” Bruce took a shaky breath. “I think we’re all aware of what’s going on.”

Each kid nodded slightly, Bruce glanced at Dick, his eldest, and the Incubus gave a soft smile, reaching up to rub on his ear slightly, a bad habit of his. His unmasked appearance, the one he only allowed around people he was comfortable with, was wildly different to his mask, his human appearance. There was no better way to describe then well. . . demon. His legs were bent a bit like a satyr’s, but he had more paw-like feet, like a dog’s hind legs, more than anything else. From about waist down, and elbow down, his skin was dark, and additionally his legs were covered in fur. His hands looked like normal human hands, with the exception of the non-retractable claws, and let's not forget the tail. His dark hair no longer hid his horns like it did when he was a kid, as they had now curled around his ears in a fairly large loop, and his pointed, mildly furry ears sometimes stuck out from the loops, other times were stuck under the horns. Then there was the matter of the blue markings. Dick was covered in these blue markings, similar to runes of a witch, but his were as permanent as the scars that covered his torso, and were as bright blue as his eyes.

“Are you going to tell them, B?” Jason asked, and Bruce looked to him next. 

Jason looked as human as Bruce did, deathly pale, with dark circles, and scabbed lips from constantly biting them. His black hair had been cut short recently after a fit of boredom, and his teal eyes were narrowed at Bruce. Had he been allowed to age past twenty, Bruce had no doubt he would have become incredibly handsome and rugged with age.

“I don’t have any choice, I’m sorry, Jay-lad,” Bruce told him, with a tense smile.

Jason sighed and looked back down at his phone.

“When?” Dick asked, now chewing on one of his claws.

Bruce gave him a scolding look and he dropped the hand to his lap.

“Today, probably. If I let this go any longer, it will only get worse. I will also be talking to your principles about pulling you from classes for the rest of the semester.”

“Bruce!” Tim protested loudly, the first time he had spoken all day. “You can’t! My- My grades!”

Bruce sighed again. “I know, Tim. But I will not put you two in danger like that again. You will finish the semester homeschooling with Cassandra.”

Tim bit his lip and looked down. The kid looked so remarkably like Bruce, they nearly had the same facial structure, so much so that people had asked in the past if Tim was Bruce’s biological kid. He was almost constantly covered in these deep red runes, traces of his magic. Sometimes they floated around his head, Bruce could always tell how late he had stayed up practicing by how strong the remaining runes were.

“Father, that’s absurd, we can handle-”

Damian cut off with the harsh look he was sent. He pushed out his bottom lip in a pout and looked away, jaw clenching. Bruce loved the thirteen year old, but his people skills needed serious work. The amount of times Bruce had been called into school because of him... Damian, the youngest of his kids, and his only biological son, was something of a miracle. Vampires couldn’t really have children, due to them not really being alive, but his mother, Talia, was quite the magician and had figured it out. Bruce didn’t have the best relationship with Talia these days, but they weren’t hostile. She still came to visit and teach Damian, but had acknowledged that having the vampireling live with his vampire father would be better than her, a necromancer, trying to raise him. He, understandably, looked the most like Bruce, and Alfred had remarked many times how the boy looked like his father’s twin, when Bruce had been thirteen. Damian lacked the ashen complexion of most vampires, having gained his mother’s genes, which gave him naturally dark skin, helping hide the truth. He was the only one of the boys that didn’t truly have blue eyes, once again taking after his mother and her green eyes.

“It’s not up for debate, Damian. You of all people should know why it’s dangerous.”

“So you would prefer to keep us shut up from the world? Let them win? That is what they want, Father. They want us to fear them like they fear us. Oppression-”

“I understand that, Damian. But we are not- We will not provoke fights for simply existing. Things will settle down in time, hopefully over spring break, and you can return to school after then. But for now it’s a matter of your personal safety, and this is all we will say on it.”

The kids grit their teeth and stared at the table, no one really sure how to respond.

Bruce sighed again, reaching up to rub his face, then glanced at Alfred, who nodded towards the kids, eyebrow raising.

“Look. I’m sorry, I know this is not how you all intended this year to go. And I’m sorry that I have caused this, but we must understand that now they’ve discovered my secret, it won’t be a long stretch to guess the rest of yours.” He looked at Dick specifically, reaching out and laying a hand over his sons. “I’m sorry, Dick. I know this will be hardest on you.”

Dick shrugged, keeping his eyes on the table. “Just . . . . Don’t tell them what I am and maybe they’ll just assume I’m another vampire or a witch like Tim, okay?”

“I won’t. I won’t be mentioning you kids at all. Just. . . be prepared, okay?”

They all nodded. Bruce sighed and stood, looking at Cass, who had been silent this whole time. She didn’t talk much anyway, too scared of her own powers, of using them against her family and hurting them.

“Cassandra. Do you have anything to add?”

The young siren looked up from the table and shook her head. Bruce offered her a smile before addressing everyone.

“I’m- I’m going to get ready and then I’ll be heading into the office to make a public statement. Please stay inside today. I’d like to ask you to stay off social media today too, but I know that’s not my place. Just, be careful what you say.”

Then he turned away and walked upstairs to his room, like nothing was different than any other day when he went into Wayne Enterprises. In reality, he was panicking. He was about to ruin his kids lives. He was going to be fine. He, Bruce Wayne, would be perfectly fine, he could handle this. It wasn’t the first scandal or drama he’d been involved in. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he had been outed. He almost laughed at the memory, it had been nearly as stressful as this, when the media found out he was bisexual. Or, well, they thought he was bisexual, anyway, they just discovered he slept with both men and women and slapped a hefty label on him. Oh well, such was the life of a celebrity.

He got dressed into a dark blue suit with a off-white button down and a black tie, pulled on a pair of black oxfords and his rolex, grabbed some sunglasses and then headed out the door, getting in a Wayne Enterprises electric car and driving to Wayne Enterprises, calling his PR people on the way, and by the time he got there, he barely had an hour to wait before the press were there. He had been very vague with the PR about what he was going to be saying, but he had already made his own script. So the time came, and he was standing in front of about ten different microphones, and he was standing there, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He had seen Clark and Jimmy Olsen in the crowd, and knew that if things got bad, Clark wouldn’t hesitate to protect him, and Jimmy would back him up. 

“As I’m sure all of you know, nearly five weeks ago, an internet meme started, based off of me. Now this isn’t the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last, I’d be willing to bet,” Bruce said with a forced chuckle, glancing up and making eye contact with Clark, who gave him a reassuring smile. “However, this one spiraled wildly out of control.”

He cleared his throat, adjusted his paper, then his sleeve cuffs before continuing.

“Firstly, I would like to publicly say that the person who took it upon themselves to illegally investigate my private purchase records, and invade my families privacy in such a horrendous regard had been contacted by my lawyers, and we are pursuing legal action. Such an act is horrifying and I am disappointed in anyone who encouraged or praised them for doing so. Second of all, to the parents of the children who assaulted my son, I have never been more disgusted by someone’s parenting than I was that day. The fact that you would teach your child such prejudice against someone different than them, that they would attack an innocent boy simply for believing _ a rumor _ about his father is unbelievable and revolting.”

Bruce could hear his PR assistant twitching behind him, and knew he was skating thin ice right now. The press was staring at him like he had just come out and started personally attacking each of them.

“In that same regard, the toxic culture of the internet is absolutely unbelievable, and that is for not only the internet, but for all the media companies, tv talk shows, and news stations that thought it was okay to dig into my private life as deeply as they have been in the past few weeks. I have been the brunt of much public laughter and joke for a while, but this is something else entirely. To honestly think it is any of your business who I am, and what I am is just astounding, and yet no longer surprising. Celebrities have private lives for a reason, but you think it is your business to constantly harass them because they do not tell you every time they eat or drink or take a shit? This is absolutely disgusting behavior and I am absolutely dumbfounded by the amount of people that think this is okay.”

There was a sharp cough from behind him. Bruce paused to take a drink, looking back to Clark, who was covering his mouth, shoulders shaking as he tried to stop himself from laughing. 

“To continue,” Bruce started.

“Mr. Wayne,” a lady from behind him said, interrupting. 

He glanced back and caught a sharp glare from her, but he looked away again.

“ _ To continue _ , since I have not been able to leave my property in the past three weeks without constant harassment from paparazzi or even private civilians, I’ve given up trying to hide.”

He saw Clark’s eyes go wide, and he started to shake his head.

“So for the entire population of the planet that has been wondering, ‘Is Bruce Wayne a Vampire?’ the answer is yes. I am. I have been for nearly twenty years now. No, I do not remember who turned me. No, I did not consent to it. No, I do not drink the blood of people who I sleep with, that’s why I order shipments of blood. Yes, I can go out in the sun. No, garlic does not burn me.” That one got a laugh from the press. “I did not make my vampirism public knowledge because I did not believe it was anyone’s business, and as it is not the law, I did not have to. It is still not anyone’s business, but I see that as a celebrity, I have no choice in what I get to keep a secret anymore. As a preemptive measure, anyone who feels it necessary to harass any member of my family, myself included, will find themselves being contacted by my lawyers. So for once in your life,  _ mind your fucking business _ .”

With that, Bruce spun on his heel and walked away, even as reporters jumped up, yelling, trying to get answers to their questions, which he easily ignored. He got in the elevator and let it go up a few floors before stopping it, sighing and sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

It wasn’t that he had been scared. Or. . . well, maybe he had been. There’s nothing quite as nerve wracking as having to publicly come out about something like that. Despite his speech, people would continue to assume they were entitled to information about his life, they would dig, they would find out people who he had been in contact with who had known about his vampirism, they would destroy those people, and dear god the kids. When they found out about the kids. . . Tim would be the best off, because mages are a little more respected. Jason and Damian would be in the same boat as him. . . but poor Cass and Dick. Sirens were some of the most oppressed mythological entities that still existed in this century, and Demons were just . . . well, I'm sure you can imagine how demons are treated, let alone an incubus. The amount of poor incubus and succubus pups Bruce had saved from sex rings was horrifying.

After sitting in the elevator for ten minutes, his phone freaking out with non-stop calls, he finally turned it on and continued to his office, answering the current call that was coming in, a call from Clark.

“Well, you caused quite the kerfuffle. You proud of yourself?”

“No. I’d literally rather take a wooden stake to the stomach then have done that. Do you understand how much I just messed up my kids’ lives?”

“It’ll be okay, Bruce, they’re tough, and they got a good dad to defend them. . . Are you okay?” Clark’s concerned voice asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Oh so you’re not.”

Bruce looked up as his door flew open. He was in the process of pouring himself a glass of whiskey when his very angry looking PR assistant walked in, fuming as her heels clicked across the floor. He just turned his back to her, uncorking the glass bottle.

“Anyway, I just wanted to say, I’m going to make sure to print your whole speech, the important parts, not just you outing yourself as a vampire. Especially the parts when you roasted twitter.”

“Thanks, Clark, I knew I could trust you.”

“Yeah of course.”

“Mr. Wayne.”

“Oh, sounds like you got company?”

“A little. Listen, I’ll call you back later?”

“Yeah, whenever. I’m here to talk.”

Bruce pulled his phone away from his ear and hung up, shooting his drink quickly before turning back to the press lady and putting on his charming businessman billionaire smile.

He got lectured for nearly thirty minutes about the importance of public relations and maintaining a good public image, since he is in fact the face of the company, and how much of a fit HR is going to have about a vampire being the face of Wayne Enterprises, was that safe? There was so much that was going to need to be discussed and-

“Mr. Wayne, should you be drinking that much?”

Bruce looked down at the glass in his hand, this was his third glass of whiskey. He shrugged and looked back up at her.

“Alcohol doesn’t affect me like humans.”

Then he laughed. He just started laughing. That was the first time he had been able to say that outloud in public, and for some reason it was so freeing. The woman just gave him an unamused look. Bruce shrugged again, finishing the drink and setting the glass aside.

“Listen. . . Lucy,” he said, walking over to her and touching her shoulder. “I’ve had a pretty few stressful weeks, I would appreciate a little time to myself. I trust you will be able to work all this out?”

She sighed heavily, and to her credit, didn’t flinch away. “Mr. Wayne, you can’t just shrug things like this off. We need to be prepared for anything the press might say.”

“What do you think they’ll say?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I think they’ll go after your family. I don’t know, obviously, if any of them are, but I think the media will immediately assume that your kids are vampires as well.”

Bruce just shook his head, moving to lean against his desk, arms crossed.

“It’s no one’s business if they are. They don’t have to inform anyone they don’t want to.”

“Of course not. Is your official statement that they aren’t?”

“My official statement is that the media needs to get their noses out of my private life. Most of my kids are minors, I will not take any harassment of them lightly, especially not the children. If anyone has issues with them, they can take it up with me and my lawyers.”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go home and be with my family.”

Lucy nodded her head and turned, walking to the door and pausing with her hand on it.

“And Mr. Wayne?”

“Yes?”

“I understand completely why you wanted to keep this a secret, the public can be ruthless to the supernatural.” She gave him a soft smile and then walked out.

Bruce stared after her, surprised. He wasn’t often surprised. But then again, he too had spent years hiding his secret, so why wouldn’t other people do the same.

He packed up all his stuff and managed to slip out without being swarmed by the press, and when he got home, the house was quiet. He frowned and looked around, poking his head into the kitchen first and finding it empty. Slowly he made his way through the bottom floor and in the living room found everyone. They were curled up on the sofas, an old black and white film that either Dick or Alfred picked, because the others hated them, was playing on the tv. Damian was curled up against Dick and appeared to be asleep, he still struggled with adjusting to being awake during the day, it was more natural for him to be nocturnal. Jason was lying lengthwise on the other sofa, his feet on Cass, and Tim was sat on Dick’s other side, tapping softly at his school laptop. Alfred was in his armchair, reading a book in the only source of light in the whole room.

Bruce smiled, but didn’t say anything, just softly turned and walked away. He went upstairs and changed into loungewear before coming back, only now did he make it known that he was home, knocking on the doorway. Ace popped up from off the floor and ran over to greet him, tail wagging happily. 

“Hey guys.”

“Hey, B, how’d the press release go?” Dick asked.

“I expect we’ll find out tomorrow morning,” Bruce said softly.

He walked over to the sofa Dick was on and bent down, picking Damian up easily, turning and sitting down with the 13 year old in his lap. Damian didn’t wake up, just snuggled into his father. No one spoke, they just sat in silence and watched the movie. Then Bruce’s phone started ringing. 

“Bruce,” Dick complained, shooting him a glare.

Bruce just offered him an apologetic look before shifting Damian to pull it out. The number was one of his lawyer’s. He frowned and stood, setting Damian, who had just woken up, down and standing, leaving the room before answering.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Wayne. How are you?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Understandable. I’m not going to beat around the bush here, Mr. Wayne. I have bad news.”

“What is that?”

The lawyer sighed into the phone. Alfred had gotten up and was standing next to him, looking concerned.

“They’re sending a DSMC officer to investigate you.”

“What?!” 

“I’m sorry, but they’re worried about the kids safety, I tried to stop them but they pulled so many laws out on me. . .”

“It’s . . . It’s fine. When are they getting here?”

“Tomorrow, day after next? I’ll send you an email with the agents contact information.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know. . . “

Bruce hung up his phone and looked at Alfred, rubbing his eyes. “God, this is going horrible.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Department of Supernatural and Mythological Creatures is sending an officer to investigate us, because they’re worried about the kids.”

“Well, that’s. . . unfortunate. We’ll just have to give them no basis for concern, hmm?” Alfred gave him a reassuring smile, patting his arm.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what we’ll do.”

Bruce glanced back into the living room to the kids. He’d do anything to protect them. But they needed to know what’s going on. . . . Time for another unfun conversation.

Two days later, Bruce was sitting at home when the gate alarm started going off. He frowned and pulled up the app on his phone, looking at it. He could see a man standing in front of the camera, arms crossed, a motorcycle idling behind him. The man was admittedly very handsome, square jaw, fairly defined cheekbones, a strong nose. His skin was tanned, his short brown hair was windblown, and a pair of aviators were blocking his eyes. He was wearing a leather bomber, with what appeared to be military patches, the name Jordan just barely legible over his right peck.

Bruce took a breath to prepare himself. He knew what was going on. He knew who this man was, but he didn’t want to do this. He sighed and hit the microphone button.

“Hello?”

“Hi! I’m Agent Hal Jordan, I’m with the DSMC. Here to talk to Mr. Wayne.”

“Oh. Agent Jordan, we didn’t expect you so soon. . .” Bruce lied, making small talk as he quickly sent each of his kids a text to be on their best behaviour.

“Yeah, sorry, the office is bad at communication.”

“Right, I completely understand, let me just . . .” Bruce paused for a second, finally sending the last text and then clicking back into the gate controls, hitting the open button. “Come on up.”

“Thanks!”

Bruce closed the app and stood. He closed his laptop, grabbed his cardigan and pulled it on before walking out of the office, calling Ace, who came bounding over from the living room. They walked to the front door, getting there before Officer Jordan.

“I need you to behave too,” Bruce said to the dog, who gave a soft whine, tongue flopping out of his mouth.

The knock on the door didn’t surprise him, and he was opening it before it was even finished, holding a hand out to Ace. 

“Ah, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce looked up into brown eyes, and decided immediately this man was much more attractive in real life then on a shitty gate camera. They were the same height, and it was hard to tell from first guess, but Bruce would estimate he outweighed Hal, not even considering his superhuman strength. Agent Jordan offered a friendly smile and held out a hand.

“Good to meet you.”

“And you, Mr. Jordan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to kontent for betaing this chapter for me! Check them out on tumblr @shelton-devers


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!
> 
> Family shenanigans!!
> 
> Enjoy!!!

“Really, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

Bruce shot his new guest a glare that was quickly covered with a smile and a light shrug. Air-headed billionaire, not vigilante, Bruce, keep your act together.

“It’s nothing,” Bruce murmured softly, returning to making the tea. “Alfred would be disappointed in me if I didn’t at least make you tea.”

“Alfred?”

“My- Well. . . he’s a lot of things. My butler, my father, the kids grandfather. He’s family at this point.”

“And is he a vampire?”

Bruce laughed and shook his head. “No. He’s quite appalled at the thought of ever having to drink another human’s blood. I offered once, as a joke. Man, you should have heard the lecture I got.”

Hal gave a laugh, tilting his head back slightly, eyes crinkling into crows feet.

Bruce finished pouring the tea and turned, offering one of his few plain mugs to Hal. “Here’s the sugar, and I can get cream, if you’d like.”

Hal just shook his head, putting some sugar in and stirring it for a few seconds before sipping it.

“So. Mr. Wayne, I’m not really here to cause issues. The department just decided I needed to play CPS today. So if it’s quite alright I’d like to just talk with the kids, maybe watch them interact, so on so forth.”

“Mr. Jordan,” Bruce said, feeling his billionaire act slip immediately as he set down his tea. “Why are you really here?”

“What?”

“I know DSMC doesn’t send officers to investigate every vampire parent. Why are you here.”

Hal frowned. “To make sure your children are safe.”

“From what? From me? There are much bigger issues in the world that you should be fixing then investigating me. I adopted them because I intend to care for them, Mr. Jordan. They’re not here for any other purpose then to grow up and be happy.”

“Do you have an issue with me, Mr. Wayne?”

“Indeed I do, Mr. Jordan.”

Hal narrowed his eyes, setting down his own tea and putting his hands on his hips.

“I don’t think you’re here for the safety of my kids. I think that’s what you were told to do, but someone in your department wants to know if my children are supernatural creatures as well.”

“Are they?”

“That is none of your damn business.”

“Actually, it really is,” Hal shot back. “It very much is my business. Now, if they’re just vampires like you, that’s one thing. But we both know there’s more than vampires in this world.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to snap back when the door came flying open.

“Bruce!” It was Tim and he sounded panicked. 

Bruce whirled around to face the kid, who was holding a shirt to his hand.

“What happened!” He exclaimed, easily scooping the small teen up and setting him down on the counter, taking his hand and carefully pulling away the shirt.

“I broke my cup.”

“How did you cut your hand on your cup?” Hal asked from behind them, moving closer.

Tim’s blood was sharp and tangy in Bruce’s nose, and he felt a twitch of hunger but ignored it, worry easily overriding it.

Tim glanced down at Bruce, then at the strange man.

“I was trying to clean up the glass.”

A lie. Bruce knew which cup he had been talking about, and it was not a drinking glass, but rather one of his magical instruments.

“Okay. Hold that tight on your hand,” Bruce instructed, stepping back and looking around the kitchen for a moment, scowling. Then he remembered and reached under the sink, pulling out the first aid kit.

“Did you get it cleaned up?”

“No, Jason was gonna do it though,” Tim told him softly, shooting another look at Hal.

“Oh. Tim, this is Hal Jordan, he’s the DSMC officer. Mr. Jordan, this is Tim Drake-Wayne.”

“Hello, Tim,” Hal responded with a smile, eyes sweeping over Tim quickly.

“Hi,” Tim said softly.

Bruce had pulled out some gauze and wrap from the rather large first aid kit, and carefully removed the shirt again, trying to get a better look at the wounds. 

“I’m gonna have to clean this, okay? Squeeze my arm if it hurts too much,” Bruce instructed, ripping open an antiseptic wipe and preparing to swipe it over Tim’s hand. The boy’s free one grabbed onto Bruce’s large bicep.

He quickly but firmly wiped Tim’s hand a few times, getting a better look at it. Three small cuts, no glass appeared to be inside still. Tim’s hand was squeezing his arm heavily, but he didn’t wait, just threw the wipe in the sink, grabbed some antibacterial ointment, quickly rubbing that in the wound and then wrapping it with the gauze.

“B, I got the glass all cleaned up.”

Bruce barely bothered to look up as the kitchen door swung open again, Jason entering, shaking a trashcan full of shards.

“Thank you, lad.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Just some scars, nothing more.”

“Cool. Who’s the badge.”

Bruce snorted, finally glancing up at his second eldest, who was wearing sweatpants and nothing else, pale scars visible on his chest.

“Jason, I-” Bruce gave up, sighing heavily. “Officer Hal Jordan.”

“Sup,” Jason said, nodding.

“How are you not cold, Jason?” Tim asked, finally relaxing his grip on Bruce’s arm and instead starting to bite at his fingernail.

“I’m just not.”

Bruce glanced over from his expert bandaging of Tim’s hand to see Jason opening the fridge, scowling into it. For once in his life, he found himself silently begging Jason not to eat properly. Please please eat human food. Jason literally slammed the door shut and turned to walk into the pantry.

“Jason, don’t slam doors,” Bruce corrected.

A raspberry was his returning answer, and Bruce shot Hal an exasperated look. Hal just laughed, shaking his head. 

“Okay, Tim. Please be careful, and rest that hand,” Bruce said, letting go of Tim’s hand and moving to clean up the leftover wrapping.

“Thanks, dad!” Tim exclaimed, jumping off the counter and running to the pantry. Within a second him and Jason came back out together, bickering over a box of poptarts.

Bruce just sighed and washed his hands before picking up his tea and sipping it.

“So they just call you whatever?” Hal asked, motioning at the still swinging door.

Bruce shrugged. “Yeah. They’re all legally mine, but whatever they’re comfortable with. Sometimes they go back and forth between Bruce and dad in the same sentence. Jason generally goes for B, and Damian has stubbornly stuck with Father for two years now.”

Hal hummed softly, nodding. 

“Anyway, shall we get to business?”

“Right.”

They ended up going to the dining room, sitting at one end of the table, while Hal asked a million fairly invasive questions and Bruce deflected about half of them. This Officer Jordan, for all his charms and beauty, was starting to get on his nerves. They talked for nearly thirty minutes before they got interrupted, this time by Dick walking in with Damian over his shoulder. Bruce saw them first, and had this moment of fear before he checked that Dick was human presenting. Luckily, he was, the romanian descent man had tanned skin, not as dark as Damian, but still significantly darker then Bruce. He looked like any other 26 year old, build wise. He was currently wearing sweats and a hoodie. Damian was cast over his shoulder and angrily beating at his back like any kid being manhandled would.

“Oh.” Dick stopped short, looking at Hal. Bruce could see the gears turning in his head. “Hello, there.”

“No,” Bruce grumbled, Dick sent him a pout.

“Jordan, this is my eldest, Dick Grayson, and my youngest, Damian Wayne.”

Damian was set on the ground, and Hal looked from Bruce to the young vampire, then back to Bruce.

“Boys, this is DSMC officer Hal Jordan.”

“Nice to meet you, Officer Jordan,” Dick said with a friendly smile, walking closer and holding out a hand.

Hal stood and shook it. “And you, Mr. Grayson. Hello, Damian.”

“Tt,” the young teen grumbled, walking over to his father. “Father, Grayson wants to take me to the arcade.”

“Damian. We’ve talked-”

“It’s not fair that you’re keeping us inside, B. At least let me take them out to the Kent’s or something.”

“Dick. Can we not. Right now?” Bruce turned a glare to Dick, clenching his jaw. 

The incubus narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

“You’re keeping them inside?” Hal asked, eyes narrowing. 

“Due to my son being physically assaulted over a rumor that I was a vampire, yes, I believed it best for their safety that they stay on the manor grounds. They are more than welcome to invite their friends out to visit, and they know this. They have full access to all of the facilities on the manor grounds, and are able to roam the entire yard and barn. They’re not locked in their rooms or anything like that, Mr. Jordan.”

Hal frowned. “Dick, do you think we could talk?” he asked, looking at him.

“Uh. . . Sure. Dami, why don’t you go play with Ace?”

“Tt. I’m not a child, Grayson.”

Damian spun on his heel and walked out anyway. Bruce sighed and stood, picking up his teacup. He looked at Dick and gave him the best ‘Do Not Fuck This Up’ look he could muster, then walked away, into the kitchen.

Alfred got back before Hal was done talking with Dick, so Bruce helped him carry in the groceries, along with Cass, who had appeared the moment she heard Alfred’s car.

“I noted the motorcycle in the driveway. I assume our guest has arrived?” the elderly man said, as he carefully organized the spices in his cabinet, replacing empty ones.

“Yeah, he’s talking with Dick right now,” Bruce answered as he disappeared into the pantry with a bag full of canned goods. Alfred was apocalypse buying again.

“You deemed that a wise decision?”

“I wasn’t really given a choice.”

Bruce folded the canvas grocery bag and set it down before putting away the rest of the snacks. Cass was silently filling the fridge. A rumble filled the room, and everyone looked at Bruce’s stomach.

“Huh. . . guess it’s lunch time.”

Cass giggled lightly and reached into a drawer in the fridge, pulling out a bag of A-, passing it over to Bruce who just turned and put it in the microwave.

“How did your talk go?” Alfred asked, watching Cass jump on the counter with an apple before putting some things away into the freezer.

“It could have been better. He claims he’s here to make sure the kids are safe, but it appears he’s really here to see if any of them are non-human.”

“What do you mean?”

Bruce grabbed a straw, then pulled his warmed blood out of the microwave, turning to face Alfred. 

“It’s just, the way he’s acting, digging into every little thing about the kids, questioning the dumbest things. Tim cut his hand earlier and you should have seen the way he watched us.”

Alfred hummed, Bruce sighed, puncturing the blood bag and sticking his straw in, he hadn’t taken more than two drinks when the kitchen door swung open. They all turned to face it to find Hal and Dick walking in. Hal slammed on the breaks when he saw Bruce, who was standing there drinking blood like it was a capri-sun, eyes wide. It was like this was the first time he was really realizing Bruce actually was a vampire. Bruce blinked back, slowly took the straw from his mouth.

“Mr. Jordan, this is Alfred Pennyworth, and Cassandra Wayne,” he said, licking his lips and unknowingly smearing blood across them.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hal said, finally pulling his gaze from Bruce to look at the new people.

“And you, Mr. Jordan. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Wayne already made me some.”

Alfred nodded approvingly, then glanced over at Bruce, eyebrow arching as he cleared his throat.

“For God’s sake, Bruce, do you have any class?” He asked, looking down at the bag.

Bruce winced, looking down at it as well. “I was hungry, okay.”

He turned and started looking for a large enough cup.

“Do you mind if I talk to Ms. Cass?” Hal asked, his voice suddenly guarded. 

“Do you understand sign language?” Dick was asking, looking in the fridge.

“No?"

There was a pause in conversation, where everyone looked over at Cass and she shrugged, motioning to Dick.

“I can translate,” Dick offered.

“That’d be fine.”

“B?”

“Yeah, go ahead, Dick. You know sign as well as I do.”

The three left, back to the dining room, and Bruce turned to face Alfred once he had finished emptying the blood into the cup.

“I think the poor Lad’s eyes almost popped out of his skull when he saw you,” Alfred said with a chuckle, crossing his arms.

“I was hungry!” Bruce defended himself once more, glaring at Alfred.

The man was unperturbed.

“Well, did you remind the kids to be careful what they say?”

“Yes, but you know how they are. . . “

Alfred sent him a glare. “Master Bruce, they spend their nights running around dressed in kevlar and spandex with you. They know to keep their mouths shut. Show a little trust in them for once, Bruce.”

“I do, Alfred, it's just . . .“ Bruce trailed off with a sigh.

“Did you see Clark’s article about your press release?”

“No?”

Alfred smiled smugly and turned, reaching into the last bag to be unpacked and pulled out a newspaper, passing it over. Bruce frowned, setting down his cup and taking it. It wasn’t the top headline, but it was a highlighted article, down at the bottom of the front page. “ _Bruce Wayne Lectures Media For Toxic Culture”_ . Bruce smiled to himself, trust Clark to say what no one else would. Everyone else had just been saying things about _“Bruce Wayne Admits to Vampirism”_ or something of the sort.

The rest of the afternoon became a wheel of sending for kids, giving them glares and reminders to behave and then sending them to talk to Hal. Hal kept a fairly professional air, but it was clear after his talk with Tim that something had come up that made him very suspicious. Tim had been the one he was worried about. The boy was always a little out of it and recently it had just gotten worse with midterms, plus he was practicing harder spells, and going out with him as Robin still. It was . . . a rough time for him. After Hal had talked to Damian, supervised by Alfred, he approached Bruce, who was in his office, answering emails.

“So. . .”

“Did you finish your investigation, Mr. Jordan?” Bruce asked, not even trying to hide the coldness in his voice.

“Tim’s a witch.”

Bruce didn’t even falter in his typing, even as his brain tried to figure out how to answer that. He decided to just lightly arch one eyebrow and keep working.

“I’m not dumb, Mr. Wayne,” Hal said, pulling up a chair and setting it in front of Bruce’s desk. “I can see the sigils on his skin.”

“Okay. Is there anything wrong with being a witch?"

“There can be, if he isn’t studying under a qualified teacher.”

“He is.”

“Who.”

Bruce sighed, clicking out of his email and going into their files, looking for the information. 

“Barbara Gordon?” Hal asked, after he turned the monitor around. “Isn't she some kind of computer programmer?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know she was a witch. . . .”

“She’s not very public with it, but the DSMC does know."

Hal made a _huh_ noise, pulling out a notebook and scribbling that down. Then he put it away and looked up at Bruce, watching him in silence for a bit.

“How does a guy like you end up with kids like that?” He asked finally.

Bruce frowned, narrowing his eyes. “How is that a DSMC officer’s business?"

“It’s not.”

“You really don’t know how to mind your business, do you?”

Hal shrugged with one shoulder, reaching up to push his hair out of his face.

“Technically this is my business.”

“Technically, I believe your job description was ‘make sure I wasn’t drinking my children’s blood’. Which I’m not. So if you’ve quite finished your investigation-”

The crash of lighting startled them both. Bruce jumped up, turning to the big glass window to the side of the room. How had he missed the storm raging outside? The wind was vicious, wiping the trees in the yard around, already blowing off the early spring leaves, and rain started pelting down on the yard within seconds of the first lightning strike.

“Well shit,” Hal said softly, walking over to it. “I can’t drive in that.”

Bruce scowled and turned back to his computer, quickly bringing up the radar. The storm was going to last all night, it appeared. He looked up at Hal, who was now tugging on his hair as he stared outside. He did a quick calculation, groaned in annoyance and then spoke.

“We have plenty of guest rooms. You can stay the night.”

Hal’s head whipped around, mouth falling open. He seemed at a loss for words, then smirked.

“I’m not that easy, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce stared at him, then scoffed in annoyance, turning away and sending his emails.

“Well, then feel free to drive home in the storm that will last until about four am.”

“Wait a minute-” Hal ran after Bruce, who was walking out the door. “I would. . . Staying would be great, if that wouldn’t be too much of a bother?”

Bruce didn’t comment, going to the kitchen to find Alfred and Jason.

“Jason, can you help Mr. Jordan put his motorcycle in the garage?” He asked, nodding back towards the man.

Jason scowled, glancing between them.

“Why?”

“It’s storming. He can’t drive in the storm, so he’s going to be spending the night, and I figured he would prefer it if his motorcycle wasn’t left out in the weather.”

“Oh,” both Hal and Jason said together.

Jason shrugged and brushed past Bruce. “Come on, Hal.”

Bruce watched the two leave with a mild spike of concern, before pulling out his phone to text the kids and inform them of the situation.

“Well, somethings gotten into you.”

“What?” Bruce asked, looking up at the old butler.

“You have never, in your life, willingly offered for someone to spend the night, not even Clark,” Alfred informed him, white eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Well, I couldn’t just let him leave in this storm, and besides, I knew you’d do it if I didn’t. Better to seem hospitable, right?”

“You do know you won’t be able to go out tonight then, right?"

“Yeah, I know. I just told the kids.”

Bruce went and washed his hands before starting to chop vegetables to help Alfred with the soup.

“I’m sure they’ll take that well.”

Bruce hummed. “He knows about Tim.”

“You told him?”

“No. He found out. Tim must have forgotten to use a masking spell.”

Alfred just hummed, looking up at him and staying silent for a moment. 

“Well, we can’t undo what’s been done, I suppose. Just protect the others.”

They left it at that, working together to finish supper. Eventually Jason and Hal came back, Jason laughing about something Hal had just said. 

“So yeah, apparently punching your SO is a great way to get kicked out of the Air Force, and here I am.”

“The DSMC hired you even though you decked your SO?” Jason asked, hopping up on the counter and turning to face Hal.

“Well, they were a little short staffed at the time, and it turns out being discharged isn’t as big of a deal when it comes to handling Supernatural beings.”

Jason made a little huh noise, bouncing his heel against the cabinets until Alfred clicked his tongue and shot him a glare. He ducked his head and stilled his feet.

“You were in the military?” Alfred asked, politely.

“Air Force, actually.”

“His pilot name was _Highball_ ,” Jason said, grinning.

“Really?” Bruce asked, eyebrow raising. 

“Yeah, listen, I didn’t make that choice."

Bruce made a little _huh_ noise, turning to rinse off his cutting board and then stick it in the dishwasher.

“Jason, who’s night was it to do dishes?” He asked as he quickly washed his knife.

“Tim- shit. . . make the demon brat do it.”

“Jason!”

“You know it as well as I do!” 

“Jason! We’ve talked about this!”

They glared at each other, Bruce using his signature bat-leer. Jason gave his Red Hood glare in return. For nearly a minute they did this.

“Oh for. In God’s name, stop it!”

Bruce flinched away from Alfred, whipping his glare over. Alfred just arched an eyebrow.

“If you are quite done glaring at your child, could you please go show your new guest to a room and get your other children for supper while you’re up there. Master Jason, we have asked you to stop calling your younger brother such names, and we will not ask again.”

Jason sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Alfie.”

“You can help me with the dishes tonight.” A statement, not a request, Jason just nodded.

Bruce sighed through his nose, but dried his hands and then walked out, Hal on his heels. Bruce just stayed silent, leading him upstairs, then down the hall towards the guest rooms.

“Siblings, huh?”

Bruce glanced behind him. “I’m sorry about them, they. . . not all of them are on great terms with Damian.”

“Well, bullying the younger brother is how it always works,” Hal said with a shrug. “It’s just like that.”

Bruce decided not to comment, walking up to the first guest room and pushing the door open, immediately heading to the closet to get linens and turning to start making the bed. 

“Oh you don’t have to do that.”

A look at Hal silenced him, but he walked around and grabbed the other side of the fitted sheet and tucked it down over the corner.

“And thanks, by the way, for letting me stay. I know you don’t like me. But . . . yeah, thanks.”

Bruce grunted. “Just don’t go wandering around.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want to come across your dungeon or coffin or anything.”

Bruce looked up at him, going deadpan. “For someone whose job is to deal with supernatural creatures, you are awfully insensitive and unprofessional about vampirism.”

Hal shrugged. “Live and Laugh, right?”

"You're an ass," Bruce said decidedly, before turning and walking out of the room.

He had made up his mind. He was not going to like this man. He was crude and brash and had no sense of manners. He shoved his nose in places it didn't belong and was clearly just here to expose his family. Well Bruce wouldn't let him. He had made it 20 years pretending to be human, his kids could make two days. . . He just needed to remind them of some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to kontent for betaing!!! Their Tumblr is Shelton-devers !!! Please check them out!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hello! A new chapter has finally arrived!
> 
> Sorry for the long gap! A lot of things got sidelined as I worked on the 2020 Batfam Big Bang, and I started a new job and just haven't had a lot of free time! But it's here!
> 
> Enjoy!

"I'm gonna fucking strangle him!"

"Get back here you runt!"

"I dare you to touch me, Todd!"

Bruce sighed at the screaming that followed, looking up at Dick and Cass. They just shrugged back to him. 

"OW! HE BIT ME!"

Okay now that was cause for concern. Bruce set down his book and stood, exiting the lounge and walking towards the source of the screaming, now high-pitched which led him to assume Damian was being injured in some way.

Sure enough, he rounded the corner and found his youngest son being pinned in a headlock by Jason, Tim stood a few feet away, hands raised as he started a spell.

"Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, do _not_ finish that spell," Bruce growled, voice low and threatening.

All three boys froze, Tim slowly turned to look at Bruce, eyes wide with fear.

"Father! They attacked me!" Damian whimpered, thrashing in Jason's hold, but the much larger man easily held him.

"Bruce, he bit me!" Jason countered.

Sure enough, there were two lovely indents in Jason's forearm, followed by a perfectly defined teeth mark. Bruce sighed, pinning Damian with a glare, at which the young teen froze.

"That is unacceptable behavior, Damian, and you know that."

"But Father-"

"No. I don't want to hear any buts, if's or why's. There is no reason biting your brother is a viable option."

Damian squinted at him. "I can think of about four."

"Damian."

Damian clenched his jaw as he glared back.

"One."

"Fathe-"

"Two."

Damian left out a hefty sigh. "Todd, I apologize for biting you."

Jason, who was still holding Damian in a headlock, grunted.

" _Thank_ you."

"Jason Peter Todd. Let your brother go right now."

Jason released him and Damian quickly scrambled to his feet, but not without hitting Jason in the stomach. Jason glared and sat up, rubbing his forearm.

"Now someone explain what the hell happened here."

"We found the little cre-" Jason cut off with a sharp glare. "Punk sneaking out of Tim's room."

"And that's an excuse to _attack_ him?"

"No. We chased him down and he-" Jason suddenly stopped, looking behind Bruce.

Bruce turned to see Hal Jordan leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking fairly amused.

"He was just being a brat," Tim finished, looking at the floor.

Bruce sighed. Clearly Damian had done something else that couldn't be said in the present company. He gave Damian a look that clearly said "we'll talk about this later" and then helped Jason up.

"Tim, Damian, you're both grounded for the rest of the evening. Phones."

"What?!" The boys screeched in unison.

"Father! You can't! That's the only-" Damian cut himself off quickly.

"Bruce, you can't keep us locked inside _and_ take our phones?! How am I gonna talk to my friends?"

"It's just for the night, you'll get them back in the morning. And besides Tim, there are far worse ways I could punish both of you. I suggest you not push it before I start taking other things."

The two glared at him but started pulling out their phones.

"Can I at least tell Colin?" Damian grumbled, holding his tightly and glaring at the floor.

Bruce was a weak man. He really tried, but he was weak, and he knew how Damian struggled with friends. He sighed.

"Yes yes. You both can text people quickly and let them know," he said, waving his hand.

The two quickly unlocked their phones and started rapidly typing. Bruce focused on Jason.

"I can't ground you, but I'm very disappointed in you, Jason. You should know better than this. Violence isn't the answer."

Jason snorted and shook his head. "Whatever old man."

Bruce watched him walk away, feeling a distinct stab of annoyance and sadness go through him. You'd think Jason and Bruce would be the closest, due to the vampire thing. But no, it felt like some days Jason despised Bruce for having turned him, which was understandable, really. There wasn't a day that went by that Bruce didn't hate the bastard that changed him. But Jason's was a different situation.

"Here," Damian grumbled, shoving his powered down phone into Bruce's hand and then stomping off towards the living room.

Tim typed for a little longer before powering his phone down and handing it over. He immediately turned and walked back upstairs without a word. Bruce sighed and pocketed both.

"Stellar parenting."

Bruce felt anger flaring through him hotter than the sun and he whirled around, eyeing Hal, who was still leaning against the wall.

"Mr. Jordan. Might I remind you that your job here is to investigate my supernatural bloodline, not question my _parenting_."

Hal narrowed his eyes. "Actually, my job _is_ to judge your parenting. I'm here to make sure those kids are safe and aren't at danger from their vampire caretaker."

Bruce couldn't help the tiny snarl that exited him.

"Are you suggesting my children are in danger?"

"I'm just making sure that you aren't, oh, say, drinking their blood or anything."

Bruce snarled louder, baring his fangs at Hal. To his credit, the man flinched away, then immediately his eyes narrowed, but Bruce didn't let him talk.

"If you think, Officer Jordan, that you can come into my house and threaten my family and I will just step aside and let you take my children on false grounds, then you are as much of a fool as you are a boor."

"Are you threatening me Mr. Wayne?"

"I will do what is necessary to protect my family."

" _Holy fuck_ , BRUCE! HELP!"

Both men jumped at the scream, and Bruce felt himself easily shift into smoke and rush into the living room. What he found when he got in there made him go instantly sick. Damian was laying passed out on the floor, a steady stream of blood coming from his head that Dick was scrambling to rip off his shirt and press against.

"What happened?!" Bruce yelled, easily scooping Damian up while Dick cradled his head.

"He was just standing there, and he was looking kind of pale and then he just. . . Shit, he just passed out!" 

"Cass, go get Alfred! Hal, do you remember seeing where I put the first aid kit? If so, go grab it."

Bruce didn't wait for them to listen, just carried his son into the dining room, tossing aside the table cloth and setting Damian on it, bending down to listen to his breathing. Damian may be a vampire, but he was still partially mortal and, as Bruce had learned, he still needed air, unlike Jason or Bruce did.

Alfred, Jason, Tim, and Cass came bursting in together, all looking panicked. Alfred immediately shoved Bruce out of the way, who whirled on Tim.

"What the hell did you do to him!?" Bruce exclaimed, pointing at Damian.

"I didn't do anything!" Tim exclaimed, looking scared suddenly.

"Then why did he pass out?!"

"I don't know!"

"Tim, you're the only magic-"

"Bruce, stop yelling," Cass' melodious voice broke through. "Everyone calm down."

Just like that the tension in the room fizzled out. Bruce closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Then he opened them and met Tim's scared face.

"I shouldn't have yelled, Tim," he murmured, reaching out to touch Tim's arm.

"Here's the first aid kit!"

Bruce looked up at Hal, who ran over to give Alfred the kit. Then he stepped back, looking as alarmed as Bruce still felt.

"Okay, does anyone know why he may have passed out?" Bruce asked, looking at all his kids as he walked over to Damian, gently picking up his wrist. His hand was so cold, colder than usual.

Nobody spoke up for a moment, Alfred was silently bandaging his head.

"Oh hell," Dick breathed suddenly. "Bruce. I don't think I've seen him feed all day."

"Crap," Bruce muttered, bending and pressing an ear to Damian's stomach, which was gurgling softly.

"Feed? He ate dinner with us?" Hal, standing to one side, looked confused.

"Jason, go grab an AB bag and a straw, please," Bruce murmured, glancing back at his second oldest, then over at Hal. "Warm it up like he likes."

"Yes, Bruce."

Jason disappeared, leaving the door swinging in his wake. Bruce glanced back up at Hal, who was standing there with his mouth open.

"Okay, this should hold for now. I would like to take him to check for a concussion," Alfred said, carefully taping down the end of the head bandage he had put on Damian.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce murmured. He sat down in a chair and gently pulled Damian into his lap, cradling the small teen like he was still a child.

"Damian, I need you to wake up," Bruce said softly, gently shaking the boy's shoulder.

"Wait-" Hal started as Jason came back in.

Jason passed him the warmed bag of blood, and Bruce quickly punctured it, stabbing the straw in. He felt his mouth watering at the smell of blood, but ignored it as best he could, instead waking Damian up.

"Wha?" The boy murmured, opening his eyes.

"Drink," Bruce ordered, putting the straw up to Damian's mouth.

The boy must have been too tired to fight, because he just closed his lips around the straw and started drinking greedily. Bruce let out a sigh of relief, letting his eyes close for a moment before looking up and finding everyone staring at him.

"Okay. That's enough staring," he murmured gently.

The others took the hint and started scattering, Alfred gently herding them out. Dick lingered for a little longer, and Bruce recognized his guilty look.

"Dick. Don't blame yourself. I didn't catch it either. You know as well as I do, this has always been an issue."

"I know I just . . . He's so small, Bruce," Dick murmured.

Bruce nodded. He could feel his son's ribs right now, but that didn't change the fact that it wasn't Dick's fault.

"It's okay, Dick. I'll make sure he feeds plenty."

Dick sighed and nodded, stepping out. Just Bruce, Damian and Hal were left. 

"He's a vampire."

"He's my biological son. Do you really think he wouldn't be?"

Hal was silent for a moment, then he walked over and pulled out his chair.

"What did you mean by ‘this has always been an issue’?" Hal asked, watching as Damian shot him a glare before shifting more into Bruce, turning his face away.

"He. . ." Bruce paused, glancing down at Damian, who had his eyes completely closed. "He doesn't like drinking blood. Human, animal, you name it. We've been working on finding a supplemental source but . . . Nothing has worked yet."

Hal made a little "oh" noise. 

"I do my best to monitor his feeding, for the record," Bruce told him. "But getting a thirteen year old to eat is much harder than getting a five year old to eat."

"Father," Damian grumbled in complaint.

"Not now, Damian," Bruce gently chided, watching Damian suck at the bottom of the bag for a moment before giving up. "I want you to go get another pint and drink as much of that as you can."

Damian grumbled but stood, wobbling a bit and then heading to the kitchen. Bruce looked up at Hal, before reaching up to rub his eyes. Neither spoke, just considered each other.

"You're an odd man, Mr. Wayne," Hal said finally, looking away.

Bruce snorted lightly. He had no idea.

“Your kids are pretty accident prone, aren’t they?”

“A little. . . . okay, a lot. Just last week, Tim tripped at school and twisted his ankle, Dick nearly sprained his wrist doing gymnastics and I swear to god Jason almost got into a bike accident with Roy.”

“Roy?”

“Yeah, his. . .“ Bruce hesitated, then shrugged. They weren’t exactly private about it. “His boyfriend, I guess? I don’t know.”

Hal chuckled, then looked up as Damian came back in, sitting across from Hal, and on Bruce’s left, sucking on another blood bag. Bruce glanced over to see with relief that some of the color had returned to his cheeks.

“Damian-”

“I know, Father,” Damian grumbled, barely stopping drinking long enough to talk.

“Then you need to stop doing this. One day you’re going to pass out in a much worse situation and we won’t be there to help you. You know how much you need to drink daily, and I’m going to be on you about it from now on.”

Damian gave him the heftiest glare a thirteen year old could possibly manage, and shifted to face away from Bruce. The tired father sighed and shook his head.

“Mr. Wayne . . . “ Hal said, after a long pause of silence, looking up at Bruce. 

“Yes?”

“I’m not-” Hal cut off, looking away.

“Yes?”

“Nothing. . . Nothing. Good night, Mr. Wayne, Damian.”

Bruce watched Hal get up and leave, and wondered idly if he had made a mistake exposing Damian’s secret to this man. Well, not all of his secrets, but. . . a fairly big one.

“What did you say to your brothers earlier?” Bruce asked, looking over at Damian again.

Damian pointedly avoided his eyes.

“Damian. . . fine. Why were you in Tim’s room?”

“I needed sage.”

Bruce blinked at him for a moment. Bruce wasn’t a magic user, but from his time spent around Talia, Barbara and Tim, he had learned quite a bit.

“Why?”

Damian swallowed, licked his lips, cleared his throat, and glanced to Bruce once, toying with his straw.

“I’ve been having dreams,” he confessed finally.

Bruce scowled. “What of?”

“Grandfather.”

“So. . . Do you think he’s actually visiting you?”

“I do not know,” Damian sighed, truthfully. “I just. . . had to try something.”

Bruce nodded in understanding. “Well, why don’t you ask Tim, next time, instead of stealing from him?”

“Tt, and get mocked? Unlikely.”

“Damian. You won’t get mocked for having dreams. We all have nightmares here. I can promise you that.”

“Father. Why do you sleep? Surely you do not need it.”

Bruce sighed, letting the conversation change slide. 

“I suppose I don’t, and you know some days I do not. . . but, I guess it’s more of a last attempt to hold onto my humanity.”

Damian scoffed again, the teen looked back at his father, eyebrow arching. “A pitiful attempt. Embrace it, Father. We cannot die, not by normal human means, I suggest coming to terms with it.”

Damian stood, offering the half finished blood bag to Bruce. He took it, shaking his head at his son.

“You’re thirteen, you can’t honestly tell me you’re okay with not being able to age?”

“I am still aging, Father. I do not know when I will stop aging, if I ever will. I am . . . an interesting case, compared to you and Todd. But, I can’t say I mind the idea too terribly much.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “You do know this means that if you fall in love with a mortal, you’ll have to watch them fade away and die while you remain unchanged.”

Damian scoffed, glancing back at Bruce as he started towards the door. “Falling in love is for those who are not brave enough to face life alone.”

“Damian, that’s not true,” Bruce said to a closing door. 

He just sighed again and sucked on his son’s leftovers, pulling a face. AB was not his preferred choice, it was like drinking someone else’s coffee order, but he wouldn’t just let good blood go to waste.

Damian was right. Since he wasn’t a human turned vampire, no one quite knew what was going to happen. Plus he had a high disposition to magic, specifically necromancy, that was equally curious. Talia hadn’t been sure how that would affect his vampirism, but she was too busy glowing with pride to really explain much to Bruce. 

Bruce sat in silence for a while, just the roar of the storm outside keeping him company. He didn’t realize how long he sat there, thoughts drifting to Batman related things, thinking about his cases, about what he needed to work on when he could get down into the cave next. It’d be too risky to go tonight, unfortunately, but tomorrow, he wasn’t going into the office still, he could go get a bunch of work done.

Eventually he got up and cleaned up the dining room, then made his way to the living room, finding it empty. With a check of the clock, he realized how late it really was, but . . . he wasn’t tired yet. So he shrugged and picked up his book again, sitting down to read. It’d be the perfect night for a warm fire to be going in the fireplace, but even in Gotham, mid spring is far too warm for that. So he just sat there, reading by lamp light, long into the night.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Bruce was a little startled by the sudden voice, looked up to find Hal Jordan, wearing his jeans and a gray t-shirt, but barefoot, and holding his pants up with one hand. He had clearly been asleep not too long ago, judging from how he squinted into the room, and from his messy hair.

“What?” He asked, suddenly feeling his mouth go a bit dry. He could see how the shirt clung to well sculpted muscles. It was hiked up by his hips, showing off a strip of tanned smooth skin.

A very not PG thought ran through Bruce’s head right then. He scowled at himself, glancing down at his book.

“Storm keep you up?” Hal asked, leaning a shoulder into the doorway.

“No, I just . . don’t go to bed until late.”

There was a pause of silence, and then a grin formed on Hal’s face.

“Is it-” he started, clearly struggling to keep himself from speaking. “Is it. . . Is it because you’re nocturnal?”

Bruce just stared at him, wondering at once how a man could be so moronic and also how long he could go to jail for murdering a DSMC officer. Not that anyone needed to know it was him. He could stage a pretty good murder if he needed to. Lord knows he had seen plenty.

“Sorry,” Hal said, laughing, “That was inappropriate.”

“You really just can’t stop yourself, can you?” Bruce asked, looking back down to his book.

“What can I say, I see a good joke opportunity and I take it. It’s good to have a sense of humor.”

Bruce shot him a glare. “I have a sense of humor?”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’m just not insensitive enough to make jokes about a whole species of people.”

Hal sighed, shaking his head.

“Is there a reason you came down, Mr. Jordan?”

“No. The storm woke me, and I came down to get water. Saw the light on and was curious.”

“Well, next time, curb your curiosity. We wouldn’t want to kill the cat, now would we?”

Hal snorted. “Message delivered.”

Bruce glanced up to watch him walk away, and okay, maybe he watched Hal’s ass. _Maybe_. So what? Sue him for having eyes, I guess.

The next morning, Hal was gone long before Bruce was awake, and that was _perfectly_ okay. He was perfectly happy to have Officer Jordan far from his family.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a funky two month break huh? Hopefully we'll have some more frequent updates from now on, as I've written ahead some! Thank you guys for your patience and I hope you enjoy this!

Bruce wasn’t very pleased. To be quite frank, he had figured he would be seeing Officer Jordan again, but he had hoped it would be more than three weeks from his first visit. So he wasn’t very happy.

Bruce had been at the watchtower since he got off patrol last night. He was in charge of the surveillance computers for the day, clicking through their different programs, keeping an eye out for alerts that he’d need to send the league to handle. Honestly he was more concerned about working on a case he’d been struggling with for a while now. It wasn’t anything life or death, it was just frustrating and time consuming and in the words of Tim he wanted to ‘Yeet himself’. 

He was sitting there, minding his business, working, when Clark walked in, looking at his phone.

"Hey, uh. . . You been on Twitter today?"

"No? Why would I do that?"

Bruce hated going on Twitter and Clark knew that.

"You might want to log off things…." Clark said softly.

He was passing him a phone and Bruce took it with a sigh, pulling his gaze from the laptop he had been working on to the mobile device, which was showing a Twitter video. He scowled and clicked it.

It took him less than thirty seconds to realize what was happening, and he nearly threw Clark's phone at him.

"Bruce??"

"I'm taking the next week off-" was all Bruce said before he was angrily smashing buttons to log out of the servers and pack up his things.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Bruce didn't respond, just grabbed his things, yanked on his cowl, and stormed out, cape billowing out being him. 

"Bats!" Clark yelled.

Bruce rushed to get into the Batwing and head back home. There was a simple reason for his panic, and that video had been the cause.

For in the video, Cassandra Wayne could clearly be identified as she entranced an armed robber into laying down his weapon and sitting down on the floor. She could easily be identified as a siren using their powers.

And Bruce knew the whiplash that would come from this. He rushed home in a bit of a panic, and the moment he got into the cave, and parked the Batcar in it’s appropriate spot, he was jumping out, heading towards where he could see people standing around the break area part of the cave.

Dick was the first to spot him, and he easily slipped in front of a smaller figure that Bruce knew was Cassandra.

“Bruce, wait-” Dick said, holding a hand out towards him.

“Dick, please move,” Cassandra spoke softly from behind him. 

Dick hesitated, then sighed and stepped to the side. Cassandra was a good ten inches shorter than Bruce, but she puffed her chest out and looked up at him, face set, eyes determined.

“Are you okay?” Was Bruce’s first question, reaching up to pull off the cowl.

She nodded.

“You’re not injured at all?”

A headshake.

“What happened, Cassandra?”

She hesitated, then started signing. 

_‘Store with Duke. Attacker come, I need stop him.’_

“Why did you use your powers?”

_‘No other option. No get close.’_

Bruce sighed and stepped in, pulling Cass to his chest in a hug. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he murmured softly. “Is Duke okay?”

She nodded, hugging him tightly back.

“We will handle this,” Bruce promised her, bending to kiss the top of her head.

Then he pulled back, turned and walked towards the locker room.

“Bruce, where are you going?"

"I'm going to fix this."

Bruce walked away, changing in silence, feeling his rage boiling underneath his skin, preparing for a fight. He was going to defend his daughter.

"Master Bruce, I think you should be wise with how you proceed."

"Alfred, I know how they're going to react. I know how they will treat her. There's a reason we agreed to keep this a secret, there's a reason we've hidden it this long."

Bruce turned to face Alfred, and he didn't miss how his guardian did a quick visual scan of Bruce for any visible injuries. Alfred scowled and crossed his arms.

"Would it not be worse to invoke the media-"

"No. They're going to make a big stink out of it anyway, I'm going to handle this early. They will be sending another DSMC officer, you know this as well as I do. I'm going to call Jordan and get ahead of it before they can send someone who doesn't know our family and will start digging through more than we want them to."

Alfred's eyebrow arched. "If that's what you deemed best." He sounded resigned, but didn't stop Bruce as he tugged on a t-shirt and marched upstairs.

He went to his office, Ace on his heels, and started digging around in his drawers, until he found the business card he had been given. Only once he had the phone number dialed in, did he hesitate. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. If he did this, he was sealing Cassandra's fate. 

One look at Twitter solidified his plan. People on Twitter were already raving against Cassandra, tagging her, tagging him, tagging the DSMC. There were already major news Twitter pages that had web articles on the situation. He closed Twitter and hit dial.

"Yello, Agent Jordan, how can I help you?" A voice answered after three rings.

"Jordan. This is Bruce Wayne."

There was a pause. "One second."

A longer pause, and Bruce paced over to the window, looking out and watching the gentle sway off the trees.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce could hear the click of a door following Hal's statement.

"Let's skip the formalities. I assume you know why I'm calling."

There was another pause, then- "are any of your children human, Mr. Wayne?"

"When they send an officer down, I want it to be you or someone you trust."

"I don't think you're in the place to be making that kind of request, Mr. Wayne."

"I think I can make any request I damn please. I don't have to allow you on my property, and I will not if my requests are not met."

Hal sighed, and Bruce could just see him rubbing his face.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll make sure I'm given the case, okay?"

"Thank you. That is all-"

"Hey, wait. Bruce, off the record?"

When Bruce didn't respond, Hal continued.

"I'm glad she did what she did. That situation could have been much worse without someone around, and from what I hear it was already escalating. I don't think your family is one that we should be concerned about, but unfortunately I have to follow the law."

"I know, Jordan. . . And thank you. I'll be seeing you shortly, I expect."

"Yeah."

Bruce hung up and turned back to the computer, powering it down before walking back out, going to find his family.

They had congregated in the kitchen, bickering while Alfred made them a snack. Cassandra was smiling as her siblings joked, but she didn't seem to be truly relaxed. Jason wasn't home, and Damian was at Jon's for the evening. He was going to ask Dick if he wanted to leave.

"Guys," Bruce called softly, drawing their attention.

Cassandra's smile immediately dropped.

"Officer Jordan will be returning. Cass I'm sorry-"

 _“no sorry, it okay."_ she signed.

Bruce smiled sadly at his daughter, then he looked up at Dick.

"If you want to go to Wally's until this all clears over, that might not be a bad idea."

Dick nodded softly. "I might. He was getting awful close to the truth last time. Cass; would that be okay?"

Cass just nodded with a small smile.

"I'll call Wally then."

Dick started to walk out, squeezing Bruce's shoulder on his way out.

Bruce looked at Tim and Cass and felt this overwhelming protective instinct. The need to bundle them up and hide them away from the world. He loved his children and would do almost anything for them.

No. He would do anything for them.

"Here, Master Bruce."

Alfred passed him some cucumber sandwiches, and Bruce found himself eating them solely out of respect for Alfred. He didn't want to eat, he wanted to act. He wanted to be able to defend his family. Hell, he didn't even _need_ to eat this, human food did nothing for him, after all.

The next day wasn't good. Damian came home in a fit, already angry bc of what was happening to his sister, Jason called to say he was staying with Roy and Kori for a bit, Dick left the next morning, and Cass retreated to her room. She had informed Bruce that she had deleted all of her social media apps for the time, and Tim had helped her change settings so she could only get texts from specific contacts. Bruce spent most of his time in the cave, since he had chosen not to go into work, and kept Damian and Tim home from school again.

He wasn't able to do anything about this and it was driving him insane.

It wasn't until Tuesday afternoon that Hal showed up.

Bruce was, luckily, in the lounge with Damian when he showed up, and Alfred showed him in. 

"Master Wayne. Agent Jordan is here."

Bruce looked up, turning to the doorway. Ace jumped up off the sofa and went running over, sniffing Hal's shoes.

"Ah, thank you, Afred."

"Of course. Master Damian, why don't you come help me with our dessert?"

"I suppose I could do that, Pennyworth."

Damian slid off the sofa, setting his sketchbook down, open on the coffee table, then turning to follow Alfred out. Bruce couldn't see it, but he didn't doubt Damian shot Hal a look of contempt, judging by his reaction to the teen passing him. Bruce closed his book and stood.

"Mr. Jordan."

"Mr. Wayne."

Hal was wearing dark jeans this time, and a green button down, his familiar bomber jacket on his shoulders.

"Well. . ." Hal looked around the room.

Bruce glanced down at Damian's sketchbook and smiled slightly to see a nearly perfect drawing of Krypto. He closed the book, then turned to Hal.

"Let's talk in my office."

Once there, Bruce closed the door behind Hal, and then walked over, sitting on the edge of his desk and turning to face him.

"Agent Jordan. You know very well I do not want you here, nor do I think you need to be here. I know my children, I've had Cassandra particularly for a few years now, and she's never once used her talents for anything manipulative, not even to prank her siblings. She's only ever used it to de-escalate situations, whether within my house, or out in public."

"Then why did you not inform the DSMC?" Hal asked, eyebrow raising.

"Because I think the DSMC is over reaching their legal rights by forcing us to register Siren's like they're some kind of pet. Have you not heard of innocent until proven guilty?"

"A nice sentiment, Mr. Wayne," Hal remarked, crossing his arms. "But the proportions of sirens who use their powers for evil and not beneficial things like you claim your daughter does is not good."

"What right do you have to monitor and register them? Are they not living beings with rights like us?" Bruce asked, straightening.

"We register them to protect innocent civilians who do not have any mythical lineage and cannot defend themselves from those who do. As I'm sure you're well aware, being registered by the DSMC gives them the rights of any ordinary human, whereas avoiding registration once you are known to be a siren, or other similarly dangerous types, makes it nearly impossible to do anything."

"I am aware, and it's that fact that I'm protesting. Being publicly outed as a Siren can absolutely destroy someone's life!"

"Lex Luthor doesn't seem to be doing so bad."

"Lex Luthor is not a good example and you know that!" Bruce snapped back.

He could see Hal was getting angry, and knew that poking the bear wasn't doing any good, but he wanted to speak his mind. Hal clenched his jaw, hands on his hips. He took a few steady breaths, letting the tension crackle in the air.

"Mr. Wayne. If you don't mind, I would like to talk to Ms. Wayne and hear her side of things," he said, voice clearly forcibly steadied.

"Fine, but I'll remind you, Cassandra does not talk, she uses ASL."

"Would one of her brothers be willing to translate for her?"

"I'll ask Tim, if he's here."

Bruce walked to the door, and stood there expectantly. He closed it once Hal exited.

"You can go wait in the dining room while I go get them."

Hal gave a tense nod and then strode off down the hall. Bruce watched him go to make sure he was headed the right way, and then headed upstairs, knocking on Cass's door and informing her of the situation before going to Tim's.

Tim begrudgingly agreed, and quickly cast a masking spell on himself before following Cassandra down to the dining room. And Bruce? Bruce forced himself to go to the living room and sit down and focus on his book. Or at least, attempt to focus on his book. It took all of his self control to not go and eavesdrop outside the door.

Eventually he got up and walked out of the house, heading out to the gardens, getting some tools from the shed, and beginning to weed the herb beds. When he was a kid, he used to hate working in the gardens. To be fair, it didn't help that Alfred often made him do it as a punishment for something, but Alfred was always there to help him, and as he got older, Bruce realized how valuable that time with Alfred had been. Now he and Alfred did the same for his kids, and he could only hope that one day they'd understand the purpose of it like he did.

It was good work, getting his hands in the soft dirt and tearing out the tiny weeds that threatened to choke out their herbs. Only half of these herbs were actually used for cooking, the majority were for Tim and his magic. When weeding, Bruce could let his brain roam, nothing needed his immediate attention past these green plants under his care. But right now, he couldn't stop thinking about how he would protect Cassandra. How would he protect Dick, eventually? How could he keep any of them safe from the public? He knew they could handle themselves, physically, but their whole private lives could be destroyed from this.

"Didn't see you as the gardening type."

Bruce startled. He hadn't heard Hal walking up, and was thoroughly shocked to turn around and see him standing at the end of the garden, hands in his pockets.

"Agent Jordan."

"I'm done with Cassandra. She's agreed to be registered with the DSMC."

Bruce nodded and looked away again. He couldn't make decisions for Cassandra, she was a legal adult. He aggressively dug his shovel into the ground, pulling out a dandelion, setting it to the side. Tim and Alfred fought over the roots a lot.

"This is a nice garden."

"Thank you. Alfred and Tim spend a lot of time on it."

"Really? Tim?"

"He uses a lot of the herbs for his spells and such, so he agreed to put work into maintaining the herb beds."

"Oooh," Hal walked closer, examining the different plants.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Mr. Wayne, I'd really love to not have to come back, so is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

Bruce stood, dusting his hands off and turning to face Hal. He put his hands on his hips and examined the handsome man in front of him. He suspected, in another situation, he'd find himself flirting with Hal.

"Nothing that I deem to be any of your business."

Hal nodded, glancing away, around the flower beds.

"Listen, Mr. Wayne, about what you said in your office."

Bruce clenched his jaw, ready for a fight.

"I do agree that the DSMC oversteps their jurisdiction very frequently, and I'm sorry that mythics, and especially your daughter, get treated this way. They- she doesn't deserve this," he said, finally meeting Bruce's eyes. "And I'm trying to do something about it, but it's slow and painful work."

Bruce was surprised, and that showed on his face, if Hal's equally surprised look was an indication. He shifted his weight a little awkwardly.

"Uh- really?"

Hal nodded. "Of course, I've also been threatened with being fired because I'm sticking my nose in places it doesn't belong, but hey, what's my job in the light of dozens of oppressed species."

Bruce took a moment to reassess Hal. Maybe he wasn't just the dumb ex-airforce turned cop that Bruce had originally made him out to be. Maybe Hal could be useful.

"I'd shake your hand but-"

"Eh, I'll shake it anyway."

Bruce stuck out his mud covered hand to Hal, who stepped forwards to shake it.

"Thank you, Jordan, for taking Cass' case."

"It wasn't that hard, not many people wanted to take it after I told them about how big bad Papa Bear was ready to fight anyone else."

Bruce snorted, cracking a small smile.

"Not quite, but it was easier for us all to work with someone we've already met."

Hal nodded. "Understandable. Alright, I should get going, someone will be calling to get Ms. Wayne put in the system and all that."

Bruce nodded. "I'll walk you to the front."

They walked up towards the drive, side by side in silence, Bruce doing a little mental recalculation of Hal.

"Agent Jordan, if I could be of any help at all with the changes you're trying to make in the DSMC, please let me know. I know how much difference having someone with influence on your side can make."

Hal glanced over, looking startled.

"Yeah, sure! I mean, I guess I do have your number now," Hal said with a small grin.

"Oh bother."

Hal just laughed, producing a pair of sunglasses from his jacket, walking over to his motorcycle.

"Goodbye, Mr. Wayne, have a good day."

"You too, Agent Jordan."

Bruce watched Hal drive off, feeling vaguely happier then he had earlier. But now he needed to go clean up and go check on Cassandra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We do be making progress tho!


	5. Chapter 5

It was late in Gotham. Bruce could hear trains rumbling through the city, cars zipping along the roads. Sirens were blaring somewhere in the distance, and music was pumping out of a nightclub a few blocks away. 

But besides that it was still and quiet, and Bruce was at peace.

For the first time in a week, he felt truly at ease, perched on the edge of a florists shop, watching the street below him. A cat ran past into the alley, chased by a dog. He smiled slightly, knowing Damian would pitch a fit if he had seen that. Since Cass had been revealed to the public, life had been a blur, going from work, to the manor, to out as Batman. Every day a new crisis seemed to pop up in each situation and Bruce had been struggling to keep afloat.

But today, he had gotten to relax. He had spent the day at home, the kids had all been out with friends or with each other, and now he got to patrol on a nice quiet evening. Tim was with him, but he was on the other side of the roof. He was quiet tonight, tired from a busy day with his friends. Bruce had recommended that his protege stay home, but Tim had stubbornly refused. He was fiddling with a bit of glass he had picked up a little bit ago, and Bruce was reminded of why he had changed the material in Tim's gloves.

He turned from the street and looked over at his son fully. Maroon runes floated around him, popping like bubbles. Tim's uniform was a lot of red and black. He had never adopted the colorful scheme of Robin, preferring to stay dark to blend in with the shadows. He had spent years hopping between different code names before finally settling on Magpie, a nickname Jason and Dick had given him.

"Magpie," Bruce called, hopping off the ledge he was stood on.

"Yes, B?"

Tim turns to him, head tilted. 

"Let's race."

Bruce turned and jumped off the roof. He heard Magpie laugh behind him, and could only assume he was following. Bruce shot out a grapple and pulled himself up to the next roof, hearing Tim landing just seconds after him. Racing was just another training exercise, originally, but now it was more about spending time with his kids. Oftentimes they were faster than him anyway. They had learned how to beat him, how to use their size and individual skills to their advantage.

Like today, Tim cast a quick spell to bridge between two buildings that Bruce had to grapple between, easily capturing the lead, and it was no effort for him to keep it. They stopped when they reached the clocktower, Tim huffing and puffing, but grinning.

"I won!" He cheered, sticking his tongue out at Bruce.

Bruce laughed, reaching out and ruffling Tim's hair.

"Good Job, Magpie!"

Tim beamed at him, his face lighting up even more at the praise from his adoptive father.

As they caught their breath, Bruce turned to look down over the city, and Tim flicked through security feeds, looking for any crime they needed to stop.

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think about Officer Jordan?"

"Hal?"

"Yes."

Tim stayed quiet for a moment, then he sat on the edge of the roof, feet dangling off. 

"I dunno? He's nice I guess? Too nosey though, but that's probably because of his job."

Bruce nodded, he had also thought this.

"He seemed to be actually interested in Cass' safety when he talked to her, but when he talked with me he seemed . . . I don't know, uninterested almost."

Bruce hummed softly, watching Tim carefully to make sure he doesn't fall.

"Why do you ask? It's been like, a week since we saw him, and I thought you planned never to see him again."

"I have considered working with him," Bruce explained. "He says he's trying to change how the DSMC operates, and I offered to be a public figurehead, since I can't get fired, but he can."

Tim snorted. "I thought you hated him?"

"I don't hate him, Tim. We just... had a rough beginning."

"Yeaaah, surrreee B. Anyways, if you're done trying to validate your crush, Jason's calling us from across town."

"I don't have a crush!" Bruce protested, following Tim off the roof.

Tim's laugh echoed through the night, and it caused a soft smirk to form. Tim's laughs were sometimes rare, and every time Bruce got multiple in one night, he found his smile lingering all evening.

They met up with Jason on the other side of Gotham, where he was in the middle of a gang fight. Bruce wasn't even surprised to find his kid half covered in blood, Roy was by his side, his arrows practically whistling as he rapidly loosed them.

"Hey, Hood, Arsenal!" Tim called, swinging in and nailing a guy in the chest, flipping backwards.

"Hey, birdie."

"Hood, sit rep?" Bruce requested, covering Tim's back by yanking a man backwards by the shirt.

The vigilante didn't face him as he spoke, busy restraining a man quickly before moving to protect Roy as the man cast a spell quickly. 

"Gang war, we walked in the middle of an arms deal that was being sabotaged by the rival gang. Civilians were being caught in the crossfire so we intervened."

Bruce didn't respond, blocking off a heavily armed, very muscular man. He growled and lunged at Bruce. Bruce immediately engaged, his every strike landing while his opponent could barely get one in. Faintly he could hear Tim and Roy working together, chanting a spell. The fight went on for a bit before all the gang members and either fled or been incapacitated. Bruce looked around, seeing crates and crates of weapons.

"Hey, thanks for the assist, old man," Jason called as he walked over to Roy.

"You're welcome, Jason. Are you two coming by?"

"Naw, I'm gonna hang with him." Jason jerked his thumb at his ginger boyfriend.

"Cuteee," Tim mocked, walking over.

"Shut up! As if you didn't spend all day with your significant others."

"Yeah I did, at least I'm proud of it."

"Boys."

They both turned and blew raspberries at Bruce. Roy laughed.

"Come on babe, let's get this mess cleaned up. Bats, thanks for coming," the druid said, holding out a hand.

Bruce shook it. "Anytime, Arsenal."

Patrol only lasted until midnight, since it was a school night. They drove home, Tim's favorite playlist playing over the batcar speakers, Tim curled up in the passenger seat.

"How was your day with your friends?" Bruce asked him, looking over.

"It was good. It was really good to see everyone, Bart snorted milkshake out his nose, Kon and Cassie had a bench pressing contest, we went and got pizza and watched a movie. It was just nice."

"That's good. I'm sorry you had to wait so long before you could to see them."

"It's okay, B, I understand."

When they got home, Alfred was waiting with evening snacks for while they filed their reports on the evening. Bruce was still finishing his when Tim shuffled over, yawning.

"I'm gonna go to bed," the sixteen year old mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

"Good. Take a shower too," Bruce responded, reaching over without looking.

He found Tim's cheek, cupping it slightly before turning and kissing his son on the forehead. 

"Goodnight, Tim. I love you."

"Love you too, B," Tim mumbled, then walked away, towards the elevator, Alfred behind him.

Bruce waited until he was alone, glancing up to check around the cave. Then he tapped a few keys on the batcomputer to pull up the research he had been doing on the history of treatment of mythics. 

It was really quite interesting, how certain cultures had completely changed how mythics and supernaturals were treated. Mythics used to be regarded as beings sent from the gods. Then they were highly valued workers. And then slowly, as civilizations kept warring over territory, they became feared, as many became seen as weapons of war. And then finally, they started being more and more oppressed. 

Bruce had no idea how he was going to change this, but he certainly was going to try.

"Master Bruce, isn't it quite time for you to get to bed?"

"Huh?"

"It's nearly three am."

"Ah shit."

Bruce quickly saved and exited out of his documents, standing and turning to Alfred. The butler was standing a few feet away, Bruce's uniform in his hand.

"Right. Did the other kids get to bed?"

"Master Richard and Mistress Cassandra went to bed shortly after Tim, and Master Damian was in bed by ten pm, as always."

"That's good."

Alfred nodded. "Now you should get a little rest, you do have work tomorrow, and frankly, I would also like to rest."

Bruce nodded. "Of course, my apologies. I shouldn't make you stay up."

Sometimes he felt bad about how little sleep Alfred seemed to get. But it never seemed to bother the butler, and Bruce hardly noticed him acting tired. But still, Alfred needed rest, even though Bruce himself did not need to.

"Good night, Alfred."

"Good night, dear boy."

Bruce walked to the elevator, turning to glance back at Alfred as he stepped in. Alfred was carefully hanging his suit back in the case. Bruce smiled slightly. He really would be lost without Alfred. 

He headed upstairs to his bedroom, taking a quick shower before getting in bed and staring at the ceiling. Sleeping wasn't easy for him. His body didn't need it, and his mind didn't want it. There were so many things he could be working on.

He had been laying in bed for nearly thirty minutes when he heard the soft scuffing outside his door. He frowned and stood, walking over. He opened it and found Damian outside. The young boy was wearing a shirt that must have belonged to one of his brothers at some point, from how he was swimming in it, and sleep pants with hems he was practically standing on.

"Damian?" Bruce asked, blinking in the dark at him.

"Baba?" Damian sniffled.

He was so small. Bruce had no idea how he was so small, but here he was, still a child. And past that, he was scared. It was so painfully obvious.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, crouching to look at Damian better.

"I-" he sniffled and wiped his nose on his wrist before puffing out his chest a bit. "Came to check that you made it home."

Bruce reached out to put a hand on Damian's shoulder.

"Did you have another nightmare?"

The barest nod was the answer. 

"Do you want to stay with me?"

A pause, and then another nod. Bruce stood and motioned for Damian to come in, then shut the door behind him. Damian went and stood at the edge of his bed, waiting for his father. Once Bruce was in bed, Damian got in, curling up into a ball.

"What was your dream about?"

". . . Grandfather."

Bruce hummed and leaned over, kissing Damian on the head.

"I'm here now, it's okay. Go to sleep, Damian."

"Good night, father."

"Good night."

After a bit, Bruce could hear Damian drift off to sleep, but he stayed awake, hoping his presence would be enough to keep Damian's nightmares away.

He might have gotten an hour of sleep, by the time his alarm went off at six. Damian popped up instantly, poking him until he too got up, grumbling and waving Damian away.

"Go get dressed," he mumbled, rubbing his face.

Damian exited his bedroom swiftly, probably to avoid being seen by his siblings. Even after two years, he still refused to be seen as vulnerable, no matter how much he had shown he understood he could be. Bruce just forced himself to get up and head to the bathroom. 

Twenty minutes later, he walked downstairs to help get the boys ready for school, looking as neat and put together as a businessman who spends his nights running around in spandex and Kevlar can look. Damian was sat across from Tim at the dining room table. Damian was sipping on the new blood substitute of the week, looking surprisingly content, while Tim was more focused on his phone then he was in his pancakes.

"Good morning Tim, good morning Damian."

"Morning Baba."

"Morning, B."

Alfred walked out, carrying a plate of pancakes for himself, and a large cup for Bruce.

"Good morning, Master Bruce."

"Morning. Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred hummed softly, going to sit in his usual spot, Bruce sat at the end of the table, between the boys. Breakfast was quiet and peaceful, for once, and Bruce basked in the silence.

While Alfred drove Tim and Damian to school, Bruce was in charge of making sure the other two got up. Dick had class at ten, while Cassandra was at home, finishing up her curriculum for the year. Cass was already awake, and waved to say good morning. Bruce smiled and waved back before moving down the hall, over to Dick's door, knocking on it.

"Dick! Time to get up!"

"Noooo," a groan came from the other side of the wall. Bruce chuckled.

"Come on, you have class later today."

"Noo."

It took some coaxing, but Dick was finally pulled from his bed, and finally dragged himself downstairs for breakfast. Bruce cleaned up the breakfast dishes, and by the time he was done with that, Alfred was back home.

"Damian had more nightmares last night," Bruce said, standing in the doorway of the laundry room.

"About Ra's?"

"Yeah."

Alfred hummed softly. "Have you looked into how to help that?"

"The only thing I can think of is a magical tie that we would need to break."

"That had been my suspicion as well."

"I might talk to Barbara next time she's here."

“That sounds like a wise idea. Now shouldn’t you be getting to work?”

“Right. Bye, Alfred.”

“Goodbye, Bruce!”

Bruce turned and walked out, grabbing his work bag and keys and walking out to find his car.

* * *

  
  


When he got home that night, it was to the sound of yelling. And he wasn’t surprised.

He found the kids in the family room, fighting as they played video games. Tim’s foot was in Dick’s face, trying to push him aside, and Cass and Damian were sitting on Jason’s stomach and legs. Damian wasn’t even playing, but he had his hands on Jason’s face, trying to blind him to keep from winning. Bruce didn’t speak for a moment, just watched them through the race. Tim ended up winning, the most determined and the one with the least interference. 

“I didn’t know we were playing sabotage Mario Kart today.”

They all looked up at Bruce, looking startled. 

“Bruce!” Tim exclaimed. “I’m winning!”

“He’s cheating is what he’s doing!” Dick argued, practically pouncing on Tim and starting to tickle him. Tim screeched in protest.

Bruce looked over at Cassandra, who grinned, setting her controller down to sign to him.

“Dick wanted play like this.”

“And then started whining when he started losing!” 

“Of course he did.”

“Hey!” Dick protested.

“Guys, the next race is gonna start!"

Everyone immediately went quiet and stopped shoving each other, each one sitting up straight - with the exception of Jason who was still being sat on - so they could focus. Bruce chuckled and watched as the silence that came over them was immediately destroyed the second the race started. Tim shouted as his bike spun out and threw himself sideways, smacking into Dick.

Bruce just laughed and walked away, up to his room to change out of his work clothes. Then he went to find Alfred. He was in the kitchen, as was usual for this time of night, stood in front of the stove.

"Welcome home, Bruce."

"Thank you. What are you cooking?"

"Chicken stir fry."

"Hmm, I'm sure they'll love it."

"Indeed. Damian seems to be doing well on that new substitute?"

Bruce nodded, glancing to the box on the floor, a new shipment of the supplement.

"Yeah he is, which I'm quite glad about. I was getting worried about him."

"Me too," Alfred hummed. "I was worried he'd develop further issues."

"Let's hope this one sticks."

After dinner, Bruce ended up helping Damian with homework. He still struggled with English, and while he had learned it growing up, it hadn't been used as frequently as some of his other languages, and grammar rules seemed to still elude him. Then once Damian had moved onto a subject he could do by himself, Bruce headed down and spent a few hours training with Jason.

"I'm going to Star next weekend," Jason told him, ducking under Bruce's half hearted punch.

Batman rarely pulled his punches, but Bruce Wayne always did.

"Oh? Visiting Roy?"

"Lian, actually. It's her birthday next week."

"Oh!" Bruce stepped back, looking at him.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "What, old man?"

"How old is she going to be?"

"Seven."

"I'll have to send you with a present from me."

Jason scoffed and lunged forwards. "You and Oli still locked in a battle for the best grandpa?"

"We will be for as long as you and Roy are together, and probably even longer."

Jason laughed, shaking his head as they continued sparing. Eventually, Bruce got Jason tripped up and pounced on him, pinning him to the mat. Eventually Jason gave up, smacking the mat a few times until Bruce let him up.

"Good job," Bruce praised.

"Yeah, I'll deserve that when I've beat you."

Bruce watched Jason walk away, chuckling to himself. Then he turned to suit up for another evening of patrols. He was ready to get out and protect his city, just like how he protected his family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Kudos and Comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> A Huge thanks to my wonderful betas Kontent (Shelton-devers on tumblr) and Bisexualoftheblade (same url on tumblr)!! I really appreciate y'all!!
> 
> Check me out on tumblr @ Queerbutstillhere and @Queerbutstillhere-writes


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